i got old (what did you expect)
by Vilinye
Summary: I will age for you, if it pleases you. I will match you, wrinkle for wrinkle, grey hair for grey hair, crease for crease, wrinkle for wrinkle. You will be so beautiful when you are old.—Deathless Of course River would come for Christmas. Christmas is about family, after all. And when your family needs you, you stay till the end.
1. Honey, I'm Home

"Is anybody hurt? No? Thank goodness. Now, Adrian, Leigh, Johnny, Kiera, and Regan, pile the bodies outside the church. Friya and Lizzette, get a fire going. Let me know if anyone's missing, and Barnable, pop inside and bring some wires from the workbench—not the blue ones, the purple. Make sure they're purple. "

"I'll find the most."

"No, me!"

"Come back when you're done, and we'll all have cocoa together, and biscuits."

"Marshmallows?" Kiera asked.

"You've been poking into my private stash." He winked. "Maybe. Just maybe."

Kiera nodded back and raced off.

The Doctor sighed. He wasn't expecting anything worse than bruised knuckles and scorched siding this time, but it was close. Too close. Tasha's force fields kept out the Cybermen, Daleks,Sycorax, and Drahvins, but it was like spreading high-quality caviar on Mark & Spenser's entire stock of bread; you just couldn't cover everything.

Wind gusted past, spilling snow like a child with sprinkles. Except it was cold and damp and all one color—not sprinkles, then, powdered sugar. Powdered sugar , mm, that would be good. Except they didn't have powdered sugar on Christmas, and what good was Christmas without sweeties? He'd have to make a note of it for next time he visited Tasha, write out a shopping list. Strands of lights, and Yorkshire pudding, maybe some Turkish Delight and of course jammey dodgers…

The outside noises faded away. Children scampered across the main square, throwing snowballs at each other, while a roaring fire blazed off to one side. Where was Barnable with those wires? And what was that noise?

_Vroop. _

No, it couldn't be. He had imagined it. Sending Clara away in the TARDIS was like splitting Siamese twins, but it had to be done. Nothing was going to happen to her because of him. He'd promised himself.

_Vroop. Vroop. _The pewter sky flickered blue.

Barnable emerged from the church, wires clutched tightly. "Is it another attack?"

"No, it's my ship."

"What?"

"My TARDIS. That's how I came here, remember?"

The TARDIS fully materialized. Almost before she finished, a woman staggered out , nearly falling in the snow.

Her shimmering dress* left her shoulders and collarbone bare; her hair was piled atop her head in a woven mess of curls. "Hello, sweetie."

River.

_River. _But she was—that is—never mind timelines, that's River. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I know the old girl isn't a taxi service, but what else was I supposed to do when she parked herself between the sofa and the coffee table? The moment I walked in, poof, she was off. Wouldn't even wait for me to do the environment checks once we landed—just booted me out. What sort of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?"

"It's not exactly trouble—not on its own, really, it's more a matter of how the rest of the universe is responding to it, like Parliament and taxes you know, nobody would care about a raise in the television fee if it wasn't splashed across the headlines each night—-"

River gave him the look—no, not _that _look,the other look, the one that meant **and what time you call this?**

"It's downstairs." He led her into the cathedral basement, shoving aside half-finished projects and wood shavings. It wasn't the TARDIS workrooms, but it was still soothing to fiddle and design and engineer, even if it was only someone's barn. They stopped in front of the crack.

"Well then. " If she was surprised, she hid it well. Her tone was equally suited to going out for groceries or a Sontaran trooper interrupting supper. She even reached into her pocket for her scanner device. "A mysterious message, spreading terror throughout the universe, and no one knows what it says."

"Do they?" he repeated, a hint of teasing in the words.

"Well," she set the pad aside. "I could have saved myself the research—yes, research, I didn't just jump in the TARDIS straight away—no one in the universe could understand that message."

"Except us." He didn't need to ask where she was—younger River may break out of StormCage for a shopping spree, but only older River was this certain he needed her help.

River whispered the words carefully, like a snowflake melting on her tongue. _Doctor who_? The Gallifreyan plea felt awkward: since when did Time Lords ask for anything? They spoke, and it was so.

Explanations could wait.

River glanced at the worn mattress shoved against the wall. "Good thing I brought the TARDIS back. That bed's a bit small for two."

"What—you're staying?"

"I didn't close my lease, resign my teaching position, and risk temporal collapse by getting into an uncontrolled TARDIS just to sleep on the floor."

"You—you did what? River, it's dangerous."

"And the rest of our lives aren't?" That was definitely the _other_ look, the he's-hot-when-he's-clever-face, as he'd called it in Florida.

"I can't ask you to give everything up for a crotchety old man."

"You didn't ask; the TARDIS did. The old girl can be quite persuasive." She laid a hand on his shoulder. "Do you really want me to go?"

"It's been a long time, a very long time." But there's one more thing he had to know, one factor she should consider before settling down with him. "Your parents will miss you."

"I've had time for goodbyes."

She doesn't say _I've done Manhattan, _but he reads the footnotes to her careful words. "You can have the bed—I'll find us a new one later. I have stuff to do, I won't sleep…"

"I wasn't planning on it either."


	2. Settling In

The bark shavings curled and crumpled into black ash, igniting slender twigs. Slowly, the pyramid-stacked logs sparked to life, filling the room with golden light. River glanced from the fire to the semicircle of wooden chairs. A smooth-hewed table sat against the wall, already covered with a dissembled temporal inhibitor.

"Why can't you just work on that in the TARDIS?"

"You're the only one who can find me in there. What if we have an emergency?" The Doctor didn't even look up from his work.

""You could have reactivated the phone system. It worked fine while you were building the house."

"No, no. That was only a temporal solution. Communications must be synchronized throughout the entire ship, or you keep calling yourself—did that a few times, wasn't keen to mess with it again."

River sighed. "We can't keep popping into the TARDIS every time I want the clothes cleaned or you need more cables."

"Once I network the architectural reconfiguration system with a remote projector, that won't be a problem. Certain rooms will be rerooted to a separate, free-standing structure with self-sustaining architecture and only residual atron energy."

"And?"

"And….er…well, those rooms—not the console room or the architectural reconfiguration room itself, but the exported rooms themselves will anchor the transcendental shell, ground her as it were, convey the implication that her owners are committed to defending the location as for a good long while." He paused. "If you've changed your mind about staying, I'll give you a lift out, but it will have to be soon."

River pulled another chair up to the table. "You're **_not_**cannibalizing her. "

"No, no, of course not. I wouldn't—I couldn't—"

"Then why?"

He shook his head, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Tell me. You haven't been inside her for days. And even when you're working on her, you won't let me in to help. What's wrong?"

"Amy said once that this—stars and planets and monsters—felt like running away. I said that wasn't it at all, I was running to things. All those brief, brilliant, wonderful things—people," he corrected himself. "There's nothing left. Why not stay?"

River wrapped her hands around his. "But…"

"All those little days, River. The ones that separate the big ones, like the plastic wrappers in a biscuit tin. We've had breakfast in Paris, tea in Kensington Gardens, the premiere of Agamemnon in the evening. But a day that starts at midnight or sunrise or sunset— and ends twenty-four hours later, on the same planet, in the same time, just like everyone else…"

"We've had a few of those."

"Involving Daleks, Weeping Angels, or the Votaries of Perpetual Precipitation," he protested. "A day where nothing happens…"

"We're living next to a crack in the universe with the potential to unleash an unending war that would consume galaxies in seconds. I don't think that will be a problem."


	3. Snowdrops

Left; no, not that left, the other left." A wrist slap confirmed which side was meant. "And stop picking at the blindfold."

"That's half the fun."

"For two year olds." River tightened the blindfold.

He gave up on the cloth and let his hand slide down.

"Well, if that's how you want it."

Green! Olive, evergreen, pine, mint, moss, teal, shamrock, olive—admittedly, in small, speckled rows, but it was more green than he had seen since landing in Christmas. "Where are we?" He glanced around the room. Utility shelves stretched from left to right, with barely enough space to squeeze around at the ends. The shelves were crammed full of pots, ranging from rough-hewn clay to a priceless early Chin dynasty vase. Each pot spilled variegated foliage: saw-toothed, lobed, smooth, pale, bright, fine-veined or ribbed.

"You don't think all the food here comes from your little chats with Tasha, do you?"

"No, not at all, I just—oh, that's brilliant. Static solution hydroponics, but where's the light coming from?" He craned his neck. "The solar energy is collected and stored—higher level of technology than I'd initially expected, but with limited resources…"

River paused to pry the cover off a baththub-sized bucket, revealing eggshells, fruit peelings, wood shavings and sawdust. "Compost is coming along nicely."

"Compost? Why? Hydroponics don't even use soil."

"For the annuals, no. But fruit trees and the larger perennials can't support themselves in liquid solutions. So if you want anything sweet besides beets, we'd better get to it."

"Can I help?" The Doctor's eyes gleamed.

"Sure. Take one of these trowel and aerate the soil."

He began eagerly digging. At first, he loosened each scoop, swirling the contents , but as the hole deepened, he became obsessed with obtaining the precise ratio of dry and damp material.

"It's compost, not an archeological dig." River chuckled.

"Better get used to it; I don't think Christmas has the ruins of an ancient temple or mysterious complex to keep you busy." He winked at her. "Of course, I have other ideas if you care to hear them…"


	4. Skirmishes

"You stay here; I'm going in to get a closer look."

"River, there's at least a dozen left; you can't take them on alone."

"Come along, then. Or are you saying I can't handle some kids with snowballs and slingshots?"

There was no good answer to this question. If he disapproved, she'd tussle him up like a turkey and turn traitor, breaking their 20-0 winning streak. If he approved, she'd pack the kids into snowbanks like kippers. (It had been a very long game, starting with the holographic projector _someone _had nicked from the TARDIS.) "Can't we negotiate?"

"Not this time." River glanced at her wristband computer . "It's here, I'm sure of it."

"Well, then." The Doctor smiled. "Time for an old trick." He stood up, brushed the snow from his purple coat. "Anybody care for some marshmallows?"

Snowballs whizzed through the air, some breaking apart midflight, some diving to the ground. One smashed into the Doctor's left check. "Oye, that's not nice!"

His plea was answered with another half-dozen snowballs.

"River!"

No one answered. Two kids stepped out from the trees, more snowballs in hand.

"Now, really? I said I had marshmallows, I'd be willing to share. Or jammy dodgers, I'm sure I have some left in the TARDIS."

Two snowballs swooped over the Doctor's head, like spring birds chasing each other. Somehow they changed direction and zoomed towards the kids, who shrieked and ran back to the woods. The Doctor grinned. That's his River.

In front of him, the Doctor heard giggles and teasing shrieks, soon cut off by the thud of snowballs. Off to the side, perhaps forty-five degrees or so, he noticed something odd. It was just a starberry bush, but the marble-sized fruit is glowing white, not pale blue. The branches aren't as full as they should be either. It's an impression of a starberry, not a real—a hologram. "River, I found the holopro." The word tickled his tongue. Holopro. Holopro. Cool word. He bent over to dismantle the starberry hologram.

A green globe floated at the edge of his vision. "Something wrong with you? What'd those kids do? I'll fix it, don't you worry…" He looked up properly.

The holopro wasn't malfunctioning. He wasn't seeing thing. "Rutans." The jellyfish shape danged from a tree branch barely twenty feet away.

"We have been sent to contain the danger. We must ensure the question is never answered."

Rotten Rutans. "What's with the plural? Delusions of royalty, are we?"

"We are nothing. We must ensure the safety of all our people. This planet has been declared the greatest threat to our nation."

"Above the Sontarans? Did you hear that, River?" He raised his voice, but continued to fiddle with the holopro. "I am a greater threat to the Rutans then their archenemy. Quite an accomplishment, wouldn't you say?" He could hear footsteps in the distance, but the Rutan couldn't. Jellyfish weren't built for long-distance, non-aquatic communications.

"You must be destroyed."

There. He turned to look the Rutan in the eye. Or in the center of the floating blobby bits, anyway. "Think you might have a little competition. Those Sontarans fairly determined to do the job themselves."

Four Sontarans, blasters primed and aimed, approached through the trees.

The Rutan quivered slightly. "You are our mission." It twisted a few tentacles together, like a person wringing his hands. "But they are our mortal foes."

The moment the Rutan turned away, the Doctor bolted for the forest. It was darker under the trees, and he thought he could see figures moving. Not Rutans, though. Human, or at least humanoid. "River," he called quickly. "River."

She stepped out from behind a clump of cedars. "What is it?"

"Rutans. Used the holopro to create some Sontarans and distract them, but we have to get the kids back to Christmas. "

"Right. Party's over, kids. " She reached into her pocket and pulled the familiar squareness gun.


	5. Ashes

River had died this young, but it hadn't hurt. Or rather, everything had hurt so much, for so long, that the golden warmth of regeneration was a soothing pain. She hoped Rachel's death had been that kind. There were no final rites to whisper in the hour of death, no curates to murmur soothing platitudes. Christmas, in spite of its name, was a thoroughly irreligious society.

The ground of Trenzalore was frozen too stiff to dig graves, even small ones. Instead, bodies were cremated on double pyres, reminding people that community does not end in death. The constant cold ensured that bodies remained preserved until the proper time, even if they had to wait.

These days, that was rarely a problem. Rachel lay on the center pyre, curled next to Alderman Garan . In life, the alderman was gruff as sandpaper, dedicated to the civil defense, and enjoyed exploiting the truth field by detailing stiff joints, pulled muscles, and weak organs to anyone who happened to ask "how are you today?"

Rachel, on the other hand, delighted in using sarcasm, half-answers, and ambiguous phrases to outwit her parents. The eight-year-old had developed the wit of a teenage to match her rambunctious attitude. Going outside? Just a jumper, thanks. Eaten all your vegetables? Yes—chips count.

Flames crackled as pine branches released sap. The aroma of pine drifted on the breeze, accompanied by the faint popping of stray sparks. In the wavering blue-white heart of the fire, the red shrouds smolder long after they should crumble into ashes.


	6. Answers

"I'm going out, be back in a bit." The Doctor adjusted his waistcoat. "Keep an eye on things, dear."

"Not this time," River called from the kitchen. "I'm coming with you. "

"I'll be perfectly safe. Tasha says it's a parlay."

"And you trust her?"

"That force field of hers is the only reason we weren't blown to bits ages ago." He slowly rose from the chair. "Besides, I'm taking the TARDIS."

"I'm coming." River took his hand. "Besides, you honestly think the old girl wouldn't let me stow away any time I wanted?"

* * *

><p>The Church of the Papal Mainframe was much as it had been when they'd commissioned River for the Byzantium. True, she'd only seen one of the lower bishops, but the rows of young men and women in battle gear, the blue and steel pipes reaching to the ceiling, even the metallic quiet, was just as she remembered it.<p>

"Confess."

River only saw the long, slender face from the corner of her eye, but memories rushed in like a physical blow. Dr. Redfern wiping away the red loop of a G, the spacesuit swallowing her whole, a mock TARDIS beneath the Florida streets. "Why are they here?"

"Tasha can explain it better than I can."

They followed one of the archbishops down the hall to the Papal Suite. The moment the doors were open, the Doctor rushed to a large candy box at one end of a long table. "Any pink ones?"

"E numbers. You're hyper enough as it is. "

"Those things—the ones you can't remember—what are they?" River

"Confessional priests. " Tasha Lim's expression was difficult to read underneath the strange makeup. "They are genetically engineered so parishioners forget everything they tell them. The Kovarian Chapter used them as enforcers."

"The Kovarian Chapter?" River's voice did not quiver.

"They broke away from us, travelled back along the timeline and tried to prevent you ever reaching Trenzalore. " Tasha's eyes remained fixed on the Doctor.

"So that's who blew up my Tardis. I thought I'd left the bath running. "

"They blew up your time capsule and created the very cracks in the universe through which the Time Lords are now calling. "

"The destiny trap. Can't change history if you're part of it." He bit into another sweet. "Or so I used to think. Time can be rewritten."

"I'm not interested in changing history, Doctor, and judging from her presence," Tasha glanced sideways at River. "I don't think you are either."

"Would've invited you to the wedding, but we were a bit busy at the time. Universe collapsing on itself, that sort of thing."

"I'm interested in changing the future, not the past. The Daleks send for reinforcements daily. They are massing for war. Three days ago, they attacked the Mainframe itself. "

"They attacked here? " The Doctor closed the box of sweets with a loud thud.

"How did you stop them? Did you get any information?"

"Stop them? It was slaughter. "

"Why didn't you call me? We could have helped."

"I tried. I died in this room, screaming your name."

" No." The worlds were barely audible, but River was already moving. Squareness gun in her back pocket.

" Oh. I died. It's funny the things that slip your mind." Tasha collapsed on the table, face down.

"No! No, no, no." He pleaded. "Tasha, no, please, not Tasha. No. Fight it. Tash, fight it!" Amy and Rory held it off, he's told River about the Asylum, if they could do it, Tasha can.

Too late. The eyestalk emerged from her forehead, just as full Daleks emerged through the back door. "Step away from the Dalek unit, Doctor."

"You shouldn't even know who I am. Clara wiped the hivemind, erased every last trace of me from your databanks."

"Information concerning the Doctor was harvested from the cadaver of Tasha Lem. "

"Bet she never told you how to break through the Trenzalore forcefield, though. She'd have died first. "

"Several times," the Dalek confirmed.

" Well, you'd better kill me, then. Go on. But before you do—" He activated the sonic, filling the room with one phrase.

"Doctor who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who?"

"I'm a tough old bird. I'll be ages dying."

"And it definitely won't be today—I left some stew on for dinner; we should get back before it boils over." River slowly backed away from Tasha.

The Daleks' eyestalks swiveled from River to the Doctor and back. "Ex-ter-min-ate. Ex-ter-min-ate."

Blue energy arced from Tasha's hands. "Stay away from the TARDIS, Doctor!"

"Or what? You'll shoot me? You'll do that anyway, what kind of logic is that?" The Doctor spread his hands.

"Or we will shoot your associate," one of the Daleks screeched.

"She's not just my associate, she's my wife. And she's not afraid of any of you. Does the name River Song mean anything to you?"

The Daleks conferred for a moment.

"She is the woman who killed the Doctor."

"But you are not dead."

"Explain. Explain."

"It's a long story and I don't exactly have the time—River, now!" The Doctor pointed his sonic at an air vent above the altar. White smoke, smelling heavily of fir and silver-leaf geraniums, filled the room.

River aimed at Tasha's eyestalk and fired. Sparks bounced off the metal, landing on her still-human cheeks.

The Mother Superior screamed, clawing at her face. "NO, NO!" In the corner, the blue box faded away.

"We are losing control."

"Abort, abort!"

Tasha inhaled sharply. "No. This ends." Her eyestalk extended to its full length, aiming at the full Daleks. "And so do you."


End file.
